


Episode 2 - THE GAME THAT NEVER WAS

by Alabama_brown



Category: Robert California/Reader - Fandom, The Office (US)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 21:18:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16183379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alabama_brown/pseuds/Alabama_brown
Summary: Robert California attends a game show and reveals his inner geisha.





	Episode 2 - THE GAME THAT NEVER WAS

Because I was due to meet Robert for dinner that evening, I begged and pleaded with Pete, my gay hairdresser and confidante, to work some magic with my hair. I had no idea whether this was a pointless exercise or not (did Robert pay any attention to hairdos? makeup? did he care? no idea), but I always felt more confident after a visit to the hairdresser. Pete managed to squeeze me in at lunchtime and he promised that he would be “as quick as humanly possible, sweetheart” so that I wouldn’t be away from work too long.

“I’ve met the strangest man ever” I confided as Pete pottered around gathering his scissors and clips. “And I think I’m out of my depth big time.”

“OMG!! Tell all!”

I started to describe my obsession with Robert California, how he had responded to my email, my apprehension…

“Oh bor-RING!” exclaimed Pete in a petulant manner, darting around me and cutting my hair in a seemingly random manner. “Cut to the chase, darling – you fucked him?”

“Well it was more like HE fucked ME.”

“Now you’re talking! Full description please.”

I told him everything, reliving the heat and the passion and the urgency of our strange encounter.

Pete stopped his trimming and regarded me seriously. “You’ve got a bit of an unconventional one on your hands there, girlfriend” he said thoughtfully. “Lordy me, where are his boundaries? Is he bi? Gay and slumming it (no offence to you, darling)?”

“Pete, he may be omnisexual for all I know! And it feels like he’s teasing me to test his boundaries without giving me any hint of where or what they are. I’m not sure where to go from here but I’m prepared to try anything. I sort of need something bright and shiny to show him. Got any bright ideas?”

“Let me think… don’t talk for a minny.”

He snipped away, deep in thought. A few minutes passed.

“Got it!” he said, startling me. “You should take him to the Don’t Come show tonight after you’ve had dinner. That’ll get a reaction, I can tell you!”

“You what?”

“It’s quite the rage in the gay scene at the moment – although straights are VERY much into it too” he hastened to add. “It’s an extremely exclusive show based on a game show which has been running for AGES in Asia! I might be able to get you a couple of seats by calling in a favour. And I have to tell you, sweetheart, this will CERTAINLY test his boundaries… and yours!”

“So what is it?”

“It’d be more effective if I let it speak for itself, my pet. Just keep in mind that it may appear to be depraved but everyone is crazy about it! Now I’d better make a phone call and see if Cinderella is going to the ball.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Watching Robert California over dinner, the only word I could think to describe him was the old Middle English “lusty”. Out of date it may be but it summed up everything he did – his sauntering walk, the casual way he undid his jacket before sitting down (impatiently tearing off his tie and muttering “I hate ties! Feels like I’m being strangled”), the effusive welcome he gave to the bistro’s owner (they obviously knew each other well), and how utterly comfortable and at ease he was.

I thought our meal would be excruciatingly embarrassing for me – here he was sitting directly across the table, a breath-taking distraction (why did he always leave the top two or three buttons of his shirt undone? I kept staring at his auburn chest hair –enough showing to tantalise but not too much to be tacky - and wondered yet again about his geisha training), but to my surprise our conversation was extremely engaging – and very unusual (which I suppose should have come as no surprise). Robert asked me unconventional questions such as “Do you have any fears in life?” and “How do you relax?” and “Without TV or any online devices for a month, how would you spend your time?” He seemed quite engrossed in discussing my answers and I thought I was managing well, even though I had an awkward moment where Robert caught me watching him eat a short-necked clam, wondering what it would be like to have his head between my legs and my fingers tangled in his unruly hair. Fortunately he didn’t ask me what I was thinking.

Eventually I had to broach the question: “Robert, tell me about being a geisha. It’s driving me mad wondering about it. Has it any current relevance for you or was it something you merely did as a hobby?”

“Ah…” he said reflectively, leaning back in his chair and looking off into space. “White powder, cherry lips, a spectacular robe, flirty eyes… don’t ever get the idea that is what a geisha is about. A geisha must be moulded over a long time. Did you know a male geisha is called a taikomochi?”

“No” I said. “I thought they were all women.”

He chuckled. “There are very few male geishas remaining anywhere. Long ago they were much more popular but so few men nowadays are prepared to undergo the rigours and self-restraints required. One must carefully refine one’s talents with the sole purpose of pleasing patrons through various forms of entertainment.”

“What does that mean?” I said suspiciously. “Are you talking prostitution?”

Robert regarded me with a disapproving frown. “Asking a geisha about prostitution is in as bad taste as asking a lead ballerina whether she sleeps with a member of the audience after her performance” he said coolly.

“I’m sorry” I hastily apologised. “I don’t know… I’ve never met a geisha before – male OR female. This is a bit of a novelty.”

He continued to watch me for a moment, then briefly touched my hand. “So much in life is a novelty” he said. “How we deal with it is… novel in itself. Don’t be afraid to get weird with it.”

This was too much for me – he hadn’t answered my earlier questions and, once again, I couldn’t determine if he was toying with me or not. He revealed so little information about himself that I was left both captivated and muddled. Not only that - he had an unconscious habit of licking his lips occasionally that was so distracting I'd forget what I was talking about. I needed to regain some form of control over the evening.

“Robert” I said, biting into a strawberry, “I have to tell you that we’re not staying for whatever the floor show is here. I know it was the plan but I want to take us somewhere else.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because we’re going to be entertained by a debased and perverted act that we’re lucky to have the opportunity of attending” I said unconvincingly.

He leaned forward, suddenly attentive. “Fascinating. I must confess that most people’s idea of debasement and perversion is limited to ball gags and fur lined handcuffs. Is that…”

“I don’t know what it is. All I know is it’s called the Don’t Come show and they’re crazy about it in Asia.”

“Well!” he said, his tone deferential. “Aren’t you a source of surprises! From personal experience, if it has Asian origins, one has to be prepared for anything.”

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Don’t Come show was held in an incredibly discrete private club which was done up especially for the occasion – a stage, a large timer on the wall and rows of plush seats for the “audience”. This was the Western version of the game show which had a huge fan following in Japan, Taiwan and Hong Kong. Put simply, the scenario involved a gay man orally attempting to make a straight male porn star ejaculate. If at the end of 20 minutes the contestant had managed to resist coming, he won a substantial cash award. If he failed, the gay contender won the prize.

I learned that most attendees had already eaten dinner elsewhere and this eccentric “floor show” served merely to round off the evening before everyone went on to nightclubs abuzz with excitement.

What astounded me was the businesslike approach the participants brought to this event and the bets that were being placed amongst the audience, the demographics of which I was unable to determine. There seemed to be a predominance of gay men but I also noticed plenty of women, some of whom were accompanied by who I assumed to be husbands or boyfriends.

The gay challenger boasted to the audience about the techniques he would use to ensure he won (such as “The Spiral” and “Vacuum Throat”) and the straight man assured everyone how he would win the money, particularly because a) as a porn star, he was skilled at delaying his climax and b) the gay man was very ugly and not even a woman in the first place.

Robert was utterly enthralled, especially when the gay contender won. He made a point of seeking out the winner afterwards and personally congratulating him, spending quite a few minutes in earnest conversation and enveloping him in a big hug as they said goodbye. “How refreshing!” Robert announced as we left. “This reinforces the fact that all life is sex…and all sex is competition. And there are no rules to that game – although one has to admire the rules of control and focus. What a privilege to see it play out.” Noticing how quiet I had become, he asked “What are your thoughts?”

“Well it was different but it was as staged as one of those world championship wrestling events. I thought there would have been more passion involved.”

“There was certainly passion involved – the lust to win. Do you usually equate passion solely with sex?” 

“No of course I don’t!” I exclaimed.

It was obvious that Robert had enjoyed my choice (Pete’s choice!) of entertainment but I was beginning to face the alarming fact that he was high maintenance. And yet once again he surprised me – in the taxi he took my hand, brought it up to his face and pressed his lips to my palm. Lifting his eyes to mine, he whispered in that incredible deep throaty voice “Watashi wa kon’ya anata no geishadesu – I am your geisha” and bowed his head. It was the most powerfully erotic gesture I had ever experienced and all I wanted to do was straddle him right there and then. I also didn’t trust him. I suspected Robert California was a highly skilled and manipulative actor. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Can this be real, standing face to face with you in your living room again? (soft music playing almost subliminally - thank goodness that timer hasn’t malfunctioned again!) It appears that you have very subtly given your consent to be mine to play with. It’s so out of context (or is it? I don’t know what to believe any more) that I’m not sure whether to totally freak out or throw caution to the winds and see what happens. Maybe I’ll do both! I suspect you want to continue with the voyeuristic oral theme and oh, I would love to. No preliminaries - I stroke you through your trousers (that’s an impressive erection going on – the poor thing needs attention… and soon), rubbing, fondling, teasing, all whilst kissing you. I suck at your tongue, pausing to say softly “Are you thinking how my lips would feel around your cock? How warm and soft my tongue would be?” You make a low sound of appreciation.

I run my hand softly between your legs, cupping your balls, squeezing them gently and hear you groan. I nuzzle your neck and smell your unique odour - a heady combination of freshly baked bread and that clean smell in the air after a heavy rainstorm.

I get onto my knees in front of you, unbuckle your belt, unbutton and unzip your pants, pushing them to the floor. You are looking down at me, completely attentive, but make no move to touch me. This is my game entirely. I take your cock in my hand, lean forward and lick the tip. “Which is better?” I muse. “Around the edge…” I run my tongue around the edge… “along the shaft…” I run the flat of my tongue up the side of your cock… Your knees are trembling slightly. "Or maybe…” I lick your balls unhurriedly while continuing to stroke and rub your erection but stop when I hear you groan “If you keep doing that much longer...”

“Might be a good idea for you to take the rest of your clothes off and lie on the bed” I say quietly. “But keep your glasses on. I want you to be able to clearly see who’s doing this to you.”

You are silent but hasten to comply, a flurry of clothes removed. Once you are lying on the bed, I kneel over the top of you and wrap my lips completely around your cock, swirling my tongue and sucking the end for a while. You murmur something that I think is “.. more…” I have a momentary doubt that this is possible but I remember Pete explaining once how to bypass the gag reflex if I were to ever encounter a large penis. I relax my throat and plunge my head all the way down on you. You shudder and gasp as I move my mouth up and down on your cock. I am very careful to monitor how much and how fast I am sucking you and as I become aware of your approaching orgasm, I slow down. You taste like almonds. I wish I had easy access to a peppermint or some ice cubes to put in my mouth to augment the sensations I am giving you but this first time, I don't want to stop and it doesn't look like you want to either.

I suck you harder and harder, faster and faster, tongue swirling, my hand grasping the base of your cock and squeezing gently… then…

I stop and raise my head. I am so in awe of this man - beautiful lips parted, panting, hands clenched, straining, eyes fixed on me, hips moving. I trail my fingers upward from your pubic hair to your stomach, through the hair on your wonderful broad chest … and stand up.

“It’s been an interesting evening, Robert” I whisper. “And now I’ll give you a chance to admire my focus and control.” And I walk casually out of his bedroom (mustn’t turn around!), across the living room to the front door, open it and leave, closing it gently behind me.

Damn damn DAMN!! I am close to tears. That is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done – walking away from him. The sight of a living breathing warm submissive Robert spread naked on the two bearskins on his bed, at the mercy of my mouth and my hands – my god he is magnificent. I could have continued to languidly play him like an instrument until he came in my mouth. And then in return he would stroke and lick me into blissful oblivion. Damn!!! This game is not a happy one.

An hour later I am showered and lying in bed, exhausted and miserable. I have the option of using one of my toys but it would have been such a poor substitute that it’s hardly worth the effort. What a nightmare.

My mobile unexpectedly pings to indicate the arrival of an email. I consider ignoring it until morning but check it anyway.

“Thanks to you, I’ve just experienced the most horrendously violent and breath-taking orgasm.

The last time I was truly surprised like this was at the Flaming Saddles Saloon and I’m still uncertain as to whether it was consensual or not.

Tell me, are you are left with a hunger, an ache? I’m sure you are.

What AM I planning for our next encounter?!

R”

I smiled.


End file.
